User blog:-EverybodyKnows-/Should I turn this into another fanfic?
Heya guys! I had some time to kill the other day so I started randomly writing. I don't know how this turned from a planned one-shot into a mess of more than 5k words, but let me know what you guys think of it so far! Do you think I should continue this as a complete fanfic on FFN? Enjoy! . . . . . Synopsis: 'Publisher and public-relations profesional Kim Crawford never lets business mix with pleasure. But her newest client; charming martial artist and ladies' man Jack Brewer, is determined to change her mind on things. '''Pairing: '''Jack + Kim '''Rating: '''T - T+ '''Universe: '''AU '''Timeline: '''future!fic '. . . . . So, he was gorgeous. And talented. And good looking; you couldn't forget that he was outrageously good looking. It hardly mattered to Kim. She was a professional publicist, and to a professional, a job was a job. In this case, great looks and personality were bound to help, but that was business. Strictly business. No, personally it didn't matter one bit. After all, she'd met a few gorgeous men in her life, in and out of the job. She'd also met a few rich ones too, and so forth, though she had to admit she'd never met a man with all those elusive qualities rolled up in one. She'd never had the opportunity to work with one. Now she did. The fact was, Jack Brewer's looks, charm, reputation, and skill were going to make her job an absolute pleasure. Or so she was told. Still, with her office door closed, Kim scowled down at the ten-by-twelve glossy black-and-white publicity photo. It looked to her as though he'd be more trouble than pleasure. Although he hailed from California state, Kim had heard that he was anything but the stereotypical all American boy. According to her assistant, he had trained in the prestigious Otai Academy in Japan before moving for five years to Europe to better expand on his martial arts and technique, where he currently resided in Rome, Italy. He had also dabbled in the film industry, a big hit to all the teenage girls whom had swooned over him in cinemas across the States; even though he only had about twenty-minutes on movie screen time. Just peachy, perfect, and absolutely flawless, wasn't he? A rich and foreign background, her boss's exact persuading words. Jack grinned cockily up at her through the photo, his brown, almond shaped eyes amused. His full, thick, dark hair was appealingly disheveled with a bit of a curl along the nape of his neck and over his ears. Not too much- just enough to disarm. The strong facial bones, jauntily curved mouth, straight nose and expressive brows combined to create a face destined to sabotage any woman's common sense. Gift or cultivated talent, Kim wasn't certain, but she'd have to use it to her advantage. Tours could be murder. A martial artist. Kim tried, and failed, not to sigh. Jack Brewer was considered one of the best martial artists in the world, and whether she liked it or not, he was her biggest assignment to date. Why a world-class karate expert needed publicity and a tour, she would never know, nor did she particularly want to. The only thing she knew at the moment was to never question her superiors, no matter how odd the job was. She loved her job as a publicist and was content at the moment working for Trinity Press; the publisher and public relations firm she currently worked for. At twenty-four, the ambition she had started with nearly half a decade ago as a receptionist for the major company had waned very little. She had worked, hustled, studied, and sweated for her own position and office. She had them, but the blonde wasn't nearly ready to relax. In three years, by her own calculations, she'd be ready to make the next jump: opening her own public relations firm. Naturally, she'd have to start out small, but it was building the business that was exciting. The contacts and experiences she had gained would help her indefinitely. Kim was sure of that. For now though, she had a martial arts demo tour and a slick rogue trained in XMA whom had briefly appeared on a movie screen. Brewer, she thought wryly, had a track record- with publicity and women. Especially the latter, but it wasn't the time to dwell on his long string of "friends" at the moment. She had more important things to do, like checking to make sure all the radio spots and interviews were as planned. He'll be in for quite the hustle in the twenty-one day tour, Kim thought to herself. One last study of his shiny publicity shot and the charmingly crooked grin assured her he would be able to handle it. In the meantime, there was a bit more groundwork to cover with Brewer's tour before dreaming about her own firm. Creating a schedule was a pleasure, adhering to one a challenge. She thrived on both. Kim lifted her slim black cordless phone and buzzed her assistant, her head already spinning with calculations and timelines. She took her job very seriously, perhaps to the extent where most people in the office called her "it" instead of her. "Anna, get me Dianne Terry with The Terry Show." "Going for the big guns, huh?" Kim gave a quick, unprofessional and wolfish grin that her assistant couldn't see over the phone. "Yeah." She replaced the phone and started making hurried notes. No reason not to start at the top, she told herself. That way, in the off chance that she did fall flat on her face, the climb to the top would have been worth it. When the intercom buzzed, she caught her tongue between her teeth. Now, she had to apply everything she knew and get Brewer on one of the most watched talk shows in the States. Once she did, she thought to herself as she pressed the button, he'd better make the most of it. Or else she would slit his sexy throat with his own katana. . . . . . Jack had no idea what Kim looked like, but he put himself in the hands of fate. What he did know, from the letters he had received from her, was that Kim Crawford was the kind of American his mother had described; smart and practical. Physically was another matter, he had never seen her before. But the again, as he had learned from previous experiences; and as stupidly cliché it sounded, there was always something, just something, worth waiting for inside. Maybe not for him to wait for, but something. You just had to dig deep. Sometimes really far. Perhaps he did prefer, in his personal life, a woman with a lovely shell, but not everyone was born with perfect chestnut hair, blue eyes, and a killer body. Still, as he stepped off his plane terminal in L.A., he had his hand on the elbow of a stunning redhead flight attendant. She had proven to be an, enjoyable- to say the least- associate, who dreamed of one day earning her pilot's license. Kim did know what he looked like, and she first saw him shoulder to shoulder with a luxuriously built woman in pencil heels, a full mane of curly red hair, and siren green eyes. The minx was all but draped over him, and she was laughing too, even though it didn't look like he had said anything humorous. A small smirk crossed the blonde's face as she watched on. Pretty packaging = stupid brain, apparently. She took a quick assessment of the well-tailored slacks and starched white open collared shirt. Compared to him, she felt formal and sticky. As she watched him kiss the redhead's knuckles, she wiped off her sarcastic smirk and the rude thoughts in her head, and rose to greet him. The redhead was sending one last wistful look over her shoulder before turning away. "Mr. Brewer?" Jack turned away from the woman who had proven to be a pleasant traveling companion on the long flight from a New York business trip. His first look at Kim brought a quick flutter of interest and a subtle tug of desire. She didn't have merely a lovely face, but an interesting one. Her skin was caught somewhere in between a light tan and ivory, but it wasn't very delicate because of the strong, prominent cheek bones that have her face an intriguing diamond shape. Her eyes were large, heavily lashed, and artfully accented to bring out the flecks of green in her hazel eyes. Her nose was small and straight, her mouth quirked in a cool and aloof smile. Kim's hair was butter blonde, but not to the extent that it looked fake, or platinum. She wore it long enough to be pinned back in an chignon when she wished, but short enough to fuss quickly with the sides when she was in a hurry. "I'm Kim Crawford," she told him when she felt he'd stared long enough. "Welcome to L.A." As he took the hand she offered, she realized she should've expected him to kiss it rather than to shake it. Still, she stiffened, hardly more than an instant, but she saw the lift of the brow. "A beautiful woman makes a man welcome anywhere." His voice was incredible, with just a tiny hint of an exotic European accent that clashed with his seemingly all-American looks. His voice was something that didn't settle altogether with Kim. Thinking of the redhead, she gave him an easy, not entirely friendly smile. "Then you must have had a pleasant flight." Jack understood nuances in every language. He grinned at her. "Very pleasant." "And tiring," she said, remembering her position. "Your luggage should be in by now." She glanced at the large case he carried, firmly tucked in his hands. She sent him her best company smile as she spoke. "Can I take that for you?" He merely glanced at her, and he hefted the bag onto his other shoulder. "No, this I can carry myself." Indicating the way, she fell into step beside him. "It's a half an hour ride to Beverly Wilshire, but after you've settled in, you can rest all afternoon. I'd like to go over tomorrow's schedule with you this evening." He liked the way she walked. Though she wasn't tall, she moved in long, unhurried strides that made the red side-pleated skirt she wore shift over her hips. "Over dinner?" She sent him a quick sidelong look. "If you'd like." She'd be at his disposal, Kim reminded herself, for the next three weeks. Without appearing to think about it, she skirted around a barrel-chested man lugging a bulging garment bag and a shiny leather briefcase. Yes, he liked the way she walked, Jack though again. She was a person who could take care of herself without a great deal of fuss. "How about seven tonight? You have quick demo with an interview in the morning that starts at seven-thirty, so we'd best make it an early evening." Seven thirty in the morning. Jack thought, only briefly, about jet lag and time changes. "So, you put me to work quickly." "That's what I'm here for, Mr. Brewer." Kim said it cheerfully as she stepped up to the slowly moving baggage belt with multicolored luggages revolving ever so slowly. "Do you have your stubs with you?" An organized woman, he thought as he reached into the inside pocket of his loose fitted buff-colored jacket. In silence, he handed them to her, then hefted a pullman and a garment bag from the belt. Gucci, she observed. So, he had taste, as well as money. Kim handed the stubs to a skycap and waited while Jack's luggage was loaded onto the pushcart. "I think you'll be pleased with what we have for you, Mr. Brewer." She walked through the automatic doors and signaled for her limo. Though Jack expected her to climb into the limo first, she stepped back. With a bow to women professionals, Jack ducked inside and took his seat. Deciding against cold silence, he decided to try to strike up a conversation. "Do you like your job, Ms. Crawford?" She took the seat across from him and shot him a straight-shooting, level look. "Yes, I do." "You've ever seen me perform or XMA?" "Of course I do. I couldn't promote someone without research." She sat back. It was easy for her to do her job when she could speak the simple truth. "I was pretty impressed with it. Something I could never do myself." "Hmm. Have you ever tried anything like it?" "No, I rarely even go to the gym." She stated it simply, then folded her legs primly and crossed her arms. "You don't…" His lazy interest came into attention. "At all? No karate lessons when you were a kid, no self-defense classes in college, nothing? A treadmill, perhaps?" She had to smile. He looked so sincerely shocked, although it didn't jar his disarmingly stunning features one bit. As he watched the perfect mouth curve, he had to pull the next tug of interest and desire in check. "When you're a failure at something, Mr. Brewer, you leave it to someone else. Especially when it involves breaking bricks and tearing ligaments." She gave him a quick smile, one that didn't appear on her face very often, and one he felt that should've. "I could teach you." The idea intrigued him. He never offered anything lightly. "Martial arts?" She laughed, relaxing enough to heel slip out of her shoe as she swung her foot. " I don't think so." The smile that had appeared briefly on her face was still there. It was one the Jack thought suited her wonderfully. "I'm an excellent teacher," he said it with a slow smile. Again, she gave him a calm look. "I don't doubt it. I, on the other hand, am a poor student." "Your age?" When her look narrowed at the sudden change of topic, he smiled charmingly, pearly white teeth flashing for just a moment. "A rude question when a woman's reached a certain age. You haven't." "Twenty-four," she said it so coolly his smile became a grin. "You?" Not that she didn't already know, she had practically had to do a background check on him per her bosses orders. Jack Matthew Brewer, born in Seaford, California, currently lived in Rome, Italy, in a small plaza that Kim couldn't pronounce and trained with a nearby dojo every weekend. He was 25, turning 26 next year on June 27. He had apparently broken his left leg three times and torn a ligament when he was twelve. It was amazing what one google search could reveal. "Twenty-five." He paused, for just a moment. "You look younger. I'd find it a pleasure to give you a few lessons." She believed him. She too, understood nuances. "A pity our schedule won't permit it." He shrugged easily and glanced out the window. But the shiny lights and dazzling sparkles of the L.A. highway didn't interest him, and he found himself staring once again at the level headed Ms. Crawford. "You put Seaford, California in the schedule as I requested?" "We have a full day there before we fly up to Boston. Then we'll finish up back in New York." "Good, I have a few friends there. I haven't seen them in years, and it would be nice to catch up with them. Thank you, I really appreciate it." Kim gave a curt nod and a stiff smile. She was sure he had- friends, female ones, who could warm a bed in ten seconds flat- everywhere. Her mind still not at ease, she rolled her shoulders gently, a small, careless movement. "You've been to Los Angeles before?" he asked her, smiling amicably at the quiet blonde. The charming, boyish grin turned his face into something more approachable, as if they shared an inside joke only the two of them knew. "Yes, several times on business." "I've yet to come here for a pleasure myself. What do you think of it?" As he had, she looked out the window, un-interested in the scenes the city had to offer on the freeway. She shrugged, simply un-impressed by L.A., and turned back to him. "I prefer New York." "Why?" "More grit, less gloss." He liked her answer, and her phrasing even more. Because of it, he studied her, intrigued, a bit more closely than before. "Have you ever been to Rome?" Her mind drifted as she thought of it. Her smile turned a bit softer, her voice a bit more wistful at the thought of the faraway, exotic place. "No, I've never been to Europe. It would be nice to go on vacation though." "You'd love it there." "I'm sure I would." She glanced out again wordlessly as the limo pulled up in the front of a hotel. "Here we are." He stepped out ahead of her and offered his hand. When Kim stood on the curb, he didn't move back to give her room. Instead, he experimented with the sensation of bodies brushing lightly, even politely, on the public street. Her gaze came up to his, not wary but direct. He felt it, the pull. Not the tug that was impersonal and for any woman, but the pull that went to straight to his gut. "Some women," he murmured, "never need to look, only to evade and avoid and select." "Some women," she said just as quietly, "choose not to select at all." Deliberately, she turned her back on him to pay the driver. "I've already checked you in, Mr. Brewer," she said it over her shoulder as she handed his key to the waiting bellboy. "I'm just across the hall from your suite." Without looking at him, Kim followed the bellboy into the hotel and to the elevators. "If it suits you, I'll make reservations here in the hotel for dinner at seven. You can just tap on my door when you're ready." With a quick check of her watch, she calculated the time difference and figured she could make three calls to New York and one to Dallas before office hours were over in the east. "If you need anything, you've only to order it and charge it to the room." She stepped from the elevator, unzipping her purse and pulling out her own room key as she walked. "I'm sure you'll find your suite enjoyable." He watched her brisk, economic movements. "I'm sure I will." "Seven o' clock then." She was already pushing her key into the lock as the bellboy opened the first door to the suite across the hall. As she did, her mind was already on the calls she'd make. "Kim!" She turned her head, looking at Jack. "Yes?" "Don't change your perfume. It suits you." He gave her a quick, disarming wolfish grin and disappeared into his own suite, leaving her in the hall. As soon as she closed her door, she shed her jacket and shoes, sighing to herself. He'd never know it, she told herself, but her pulse had been behaving horridly since he'd taken her hand. Stupid, she told herself. Her legs weren't quite steady yet. She'd just wait until they were. So, he was gorgeous. And talented. And good looking. She'd already known that, hadn't she? The trouble was, she wasn't sure how to handle him. Not nearly as sure as she had to be. . . . . . So, what do you guys think about it? My pen-name on FFN is "beginnings-and-endings" (formerly "Its-Past-My-Bed-Time"). PM me sometime on there too if you'd like to chat! Leave you're comment below on whether or not I should continue this on FFN! Lots of love! - Alexi :D Category:Blog posts